


Survival Horror au

by Butmunchr



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Android graveyard..., BOOTYSHORTS, Badass Simon y’all, Established Relationship, Future Angst, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, One word:, Survival Horror, Who even checks so many tags go read already, but I’ll try, future smut, i can’t personally handle it, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-06-28 09:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15704481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butmunchr/pseuds/Butmunchr
Summary: Markus and Simon go to the woods, but as they’re ready to leave their car won’t start. So, Markus suggest they go to a creepy looking house and ask for shelter for the night. But as they settle down some problems ensue...////Hiatus guys sorry yeet////





	1. Anxious

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one in which it’s made clear that Simon’s always right. Also it’s my first fic ever so be nice pls

Simon knew it. He knew it was a bad idea to go hitchhiking with Markus in the woods alone, he knew it was a bad idea to come in _these_ woods alone, and he _knew_ that the car was garbage. It seems like Markus realised that, too, when the car wouldn’t start after fifteen minutes of trying. 

They sat there, the silence engulfing them, until Markus stated the obvious:  
“The car won’t start.”  
“I know.”  
“What are we going to do?”  
“I don’t know.”  
More silence.  
“I got it! Wasn’t there a house nearby? We can go and ask to stay the night while I call the car repair services.”  
“Markus, we’re not going to sleep in a house in the middle of the woods! Has your brain stopped working just like the car?!”  
“But Si, it’s just for the night, no worries!”  
Simon sighed, but nodded. He knew it was a bad idea, he knew it.

“Thank you for letting us stay ma’am.”  
Simon didn’t realise how big the house was until they walked inside. Within their first steps, the two were greeted by a grand foyer, executive paintings neatly arranged on its walls. As they went deeper a massive living room slowly came into view, well equipped with walnut bookshelves and leather-bound books. An antique fireplace, currently keeping the room warm, illuminated the big and small potted plants, neatly organised in the corners or onto the window still. Everything was extraordinary, but what got Simon’s attention the most was the sweet, vanilla-like scent hovering in the air. The light glow and sweet scent made the whole room extremely soothing, even though just the thought of sleeping in such luxurious place made his heart beat just a little faster.  
But… Simon felt something else too. Something entirely different. The eeriness of which making his whole body chill to the bones. It was crawling through him, screaming at him to get away, to get out, get out, **get out!**  
“Simon?”  
Simon jolted, startled by the sound of Markus’ sudden voice. He turned his head towards him slowly, his eyes glazed over.  
“Huh?”  
The blonde looked around as if just awoken from a dream.  
“Are you okay, young man? You looked a little lost in thought just now.”  
Simon only blinked, feeling Markus’ hand tighten around his. He shook his head, as if to shake away the sunken feeling in his stomach; he turned towards the woman, an easy smile glazing his lips.  
“Yes, I-I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me, ma’am.”  
The woman looked at him some more, her eyes seemingly getting darker with every second she looked at him. Before Simon could look closely-  
“Oh, ok then. Let me show you to your room. You can settle in while I prepare dinner.”

“What was that for?”  
Simon only looked at Markus, a confused look plastered on his face.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Just now, you looked entirely spaced out.”  
Still, with no answer from the blonde Markus came a little closer to him, gently putting his hand atop of Simon’s and giving it a reassuring squeeze.  
“Simon, we’ve talked about this, you don’t need to hold everything in anymore, just show me what you feel.”  
Simon wanted to retrieve his hand, to conceal like he always did, but decided against it. Something in Markus’ voice was making him give in to the motion. Retrieving his synthetic skin, he let the feeling of the other flow through him, letting go of his own buried thoughts in return:  
_Doubt of the safeness of the house,_  
Anxiousness of what is to come,  
Caution of the unknown,  
And danger,  
Danger, danger, danGER, DANGER, DANG-  
The two of them broke their connecting hearing the soft knocking of knuckles at the side of their open bedroom door.  
“Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if one of you could perhaps help me in the kitchen? It won’t be long.”  
Both of them looked at each other for a second. Simon nodded and got up.  
“With pleasure, ma’am,”  
The last thing Markus saw was the slight fluttering of Simon’s shorts as he followed the retrieving lady outside.


	2. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Simon’s still right... and badass. Also kudos and comments are appreciated! <3

‘ _Simon sure takes his time with the old lady, huh.”_  
And, in fact, he did, Markus being the time freak he was counted every second of it – 32 mins. and 42 secs.  
Having experienced the uneasy feeling Simon shared with him, he doubted his boyfriend would spend more time than needed helping the old lady and, knowing there being only the three of them in this whole house, it was unlikely to be some kind of a grand dinner either. But it was a possibility nonetheless, so he tried to relax.  
It was quite the surprise however when at the same moment two pale hands grasped at the door frame, his boyfriend’s head popping out to the side.  
“Sorry, it was quite cozy in the kitchen so we kind of lost track of time while working.”  
He trailed towards the bed while excusing himself.  
“Oh no, it’s ok, it’s just that you were feeling uncomfortable earlier, so I didn’t think you’d want to spend more time helping than you needed.”  
The statement halted his boyfriend in his tracks. Cocking his head to the side he looked at him confused.  
“Earlier? Oh, no, no it must have been the nerves. You know how worried I get in new places.”  
Regarding him for a moment, Markus noted that Simon was acting kind of strange, too forced to go with his usually calm persona.  
“Simon, are you sure you’re ok? You seem kind of...nervous. Did anything happen down there?”  
Simon paused for a moment as if to calculate his answer.  
“Me? Nervous? You must be imagining things, Markus – I’m perfectly fine! Also speaking of down there I told the old lady we weren’t really hungry, so we can spend more time together, because we aren’t, are we?”  
A little weirded out by the question Markus propped himself on his elbows, warily inspecting the other. He tried not to think about it too hard, giving his answer instead.  
“No…I guess not.”  
Nodding with a slight hum Simon relaxed his posture fully, letting his shoulders ease down and making his steps lighter, almost tiptoeing to the bed where he climbed on and slightly swung his hips side to side; taunting Markus. Markus didn’t waste the opportunity, settling the other on his lap to kiss him passionately. Lowering him down to lay flat on the bed, Simon took the lead by sliding his tongue in Markus’ mouth tasting every inch of him. The other couldn’t help but feel slightly dazed by the action. He still felt Simon’s hands wrap around his neck nonetheless. Through the foggy state of his mind, he could also feel the other’s hands tightening uncomfortably tightly and squeezing abruptly, cutting his breath off entirely.  
That wasn’t like Simon. That wasn’t like Simon at all.  
Starting to panic he opened his eyes, but instead baby blue, met a pair of black holes and a deformed face staring back at him. As the creature choked him he could feel himself slowly shut down. Androids didn’t really need oxygen, but they needed to breathe as the action helped them distribute thirium to their biocomponents and cool down. And Markus knew that if he doesn’t get away from this thing’s grasp any time soon, he would die.  
Usually stronger than Simon, he tried to push it away, but it wasn’t budging an inch, pushing him back against the bed even harder.  
“What? ąя€ɲ’ţ ¥๏µ hą˅ɨɲǥ ƒµɲ???”  
Markus shut his eyes, preparing for his death but instead heard a gunshot and snapped his eyes open as he felt the heavy body of the creature fall on top of him. He pushed it away and was greeted by his not less than furious Simon holding an old shotgun, smoke still coming out of its head.  
“I told you it was a bad idea staying here, Markus, but nooo, ‘ _it’s just for the night, no worries’_!”  
Markus sat on the bed stunned as his boyfriend continued to rattle on, the house was shaking, as if from the blonde’s voice. Simon abruptly stopped then, obviously realising what he was doing. Taking a few deep breaths to stabilise himself he continued, but this time his voice exceedingly lower, almost a whisper:  
“Look, I don’t know what’s happening here, but we have to get out. This is not the first creature I’ve seen, and surely not the last.”  
The swift moves following Simon’s statement made Markus snap out of his trance, getting into action himself. Searching the dusty, old bedroom the couple found a med kit and some more shotgun ammo under the bed. Markus noticed as Simon paused in front of their luggage, seemingly contemplating if he should change into something more suiting. The loud enough “Never mind”, made his choice clear.  
With Simon in lead, they made their way downstairs carefully, finding their way into the kitchen. The room, as Markus saw, could be described as what you’d call quite shabby; tea stained counters, dirty towels, cracked mugs, a slimy draining board and a noisy refrigerator were the things seen only at first glance. Looking further, he could spot the recently used stove and hear the nasty creak as Simon opened the drawers, scavenging for other weapons and smiling faintly when finding a rusty old dagger.  
In the corner of his eyes Markus spotted a small pick axe, whatever luck they had left seemingly on his side. But, as he made his way to it something else caught his eye or more precisely a scene he’d never anticipated to ever see:  
The once scarlet blood that has oozed from the recently used butcher’s blade in thick droplets now splattered the peeling linoleum and had quickly blackened in the still present heat. A few feet before, it laid the blood that had flowed so freely from the severed neck now in pools around the corpse and soaked into its light cotton dress like some garnish Halloween dummy. But this one was real. And this realisation scared Markus.  
He looked back at Simon, the dread of what the blonde might have done slowly filling him, tightening his every muscle. He expected an apology or even shame, so the determination he was met with instead took him deep by surprise. Looking into those clear eyes this was one of the first times he’d seen Simon like this, so… unyielding. Simon knew what he was doing, the execution seemingly carnal but the thought behind it logical. Seeming to catch his uncertainty Simon said:  
“Take the axe; you will need a weapon too. Killing them would be the only way to survive.”  
Hearing his beloved talk like this made Markus aware of the reason why he was leading a peaceful revolution in the first place – he couldn’t kill. He could fight, yes, but killing was where he drew the line. A small voice in his head was telling him these monsters weren’t human, so it was ok. That voice and Simon’s determination was enough to make him kick into action, grasping the axe and hurrying after the blonde.

“I checked the front door while down here. It was locked, so we have to use the back door.”  
“Wait, you were about to leave without me? While that thing was killing me upstairs?”  
“I _didn’t_ say that. I wanted to make sure we had a way out. I didn’t know there would be more of those… _things_. On top of that, if I hadn’t gone through the living room, I wouldn’t have seen the shotgun and you’d be a deflated bag of chips right now.”  
“True,”  
The pair made their way through the rest of the kitchen, and towards the dark and narrow corridor. However, as they were making their way through it, Markus heard a crack and could only turn around and see the floor engulf Simon whole.  
“Simon!”  
Filled with despair, he felt a hand clench on his shoulder and turn him around. One fist later, everything went black.


	3. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Yo, Butt, back with a new chapter, I see?” Yes, it’s me, kids, and this chapter was my favourite to write so far. But I gotta warm y’all GORE/INJURY ahead, but it’s not worse than in a horror video game, so don’t be afraid to read. (I mean it’s not gonna bite you so)
> 
> Also I forgot to mention before, but for some reason them love birds can’t communicate wirelessly in there so there ya go.

A small gasp left Simon’s lips as, all at once, his foot ceased to travel forward and the scenery began to blur like a poorly shot action photograph. The colours swirled and blended as his head and body were pulled by the gravity down to the collapsed floor. The expected thump on the ground didn’t come. Instead, he was still falling; only now it was utterly black.  
All his thoughts left him, however, when he hit a pipe midway down and all the wind was knocked from his lungs. He could hear a nasty pop and the world stopped working for a few seconds, time obvious enough for him to find himself on a dusty stone floor. After blinking the particles of dust away, he squinted upwards, the remaining silhouette of the hole barely a small circle in the distance.  
Without looking, he knew there was blood seeping from skin that, seconds ago, was smooth. He didn’t move – anything to delay the part where he had to take in what he looked like now. He heard the impact. He didn’t even want to know what it did to his body. He tried to use his right arm to get up, but found it unmoving, hanging limply by his side. The solution was simple, however – just lean back, put your other hand on your shoulder, up, twist and the arm snaps back in at its place.  
Now the hard part:  
Lifting his shirt up, the inevitable form of a middle sized pipe through his abdomen revealed itself. Simon felt the panic begin, like a cluster of spark plugs in his abdomen. In a minute, it became a flood of ice water surrounding his every limb, creeping higher and higher until it passed his mouth and nose. That’s when his thoughts began accelerating inside his head. He wanted them to slow down so he could breathe, but they wouldn’t. This resulted in his breaths coming as shallow gasps, Simon feeling like he would black out.  
The room spun and he tried to squat, to feel the steady floor beneath his feet, trying to make everything slow down to something his brain and body could cope with. He looked up, his gaze not really focusing on anything, and tried to see where his panic came from. He took slow, deep breaths, attempting to calm himself. Slowly, his heart rate started to slow down. Still too tense, he made a conscious effort to relax each muscle in his body; from his toes, all the way up to his neck and face. He stayed like that for a few minutes, just looking up and relaxing. His hands intimately slid around his waist, grasping the cold metal of the pipe. Then, in one swift move, he pulled the pipe all the way from where it was poking behind his back to the front and onto the floor.  
For a moment, he blue-screened. The stress returned back in one big wave, drowning him whole. He stood on his hands and knees as blood flowed in thick azure rivers amongst the skin of his thighs, soaking his once clean shorts. The blonde tried to breathe as the blood pooled around him, but it came out more as gagging sounds than anything else.  
The stress was crippling his mind, yet he knew he must fix himself up before he lost consciousness.  
Pressing a pale hand to his abdomen, Simon rose unsteadily to his feet. It was against his body’s orders to be moving right now, but he needed to close the wound and bandage up. Luckily, near Simon stood a table clad with all kinds of chemistry equipment. And a first aid kit included. Finding an old alcohol burner, he prayed to whatever god there was for it to still be in working order.  
And it was; making Simon let a sight in relief. He bunched his t-shirt up, biting it with his teeth and brought the flame closer to his body. The flame caught onto the still pouring thirium for a moment but then, as he circled around the wound, the metal slowly started to melt. Once he closed the front he moved to the back, but it was difficult with the lack of vision. Error messages blinded his vision, warning him of the inappropriate sealing technique. It didn’t faze Simon in the slightest, but he just hoped he sealed the gap in decent fashion.  
Opening a bottle of antiseptic Simon poured it over his abdomen and lower body. Even if useless for androids, the fluid could still clear some of the thirium staining him. Afterwards, the blonde rummaged through the kit, finding a few dusty bandages, just enough to protect his freshly closed skin. He shivered violently as he placed the bandages log cabin style around his middle. Now that his stomach had stopped bleeding, he merely felt bruised inside.  
Once back to his senses, he looked around. He was in what he could only call a damp storage facility, possibly located where the old cellar has been, judging by a few wine barrels hanging from the wall. A quick scan identified twenty-six shelving units, each of those crowded with items, most in a bewildering variety of glass jars filled with liquid in a range of colours.  
Some of the specimens occupying said vessels were minuscule, such as tiny vials full of small marine life. Others, however, such as unidentified organs, filling jars nearly a foot tall, were significantly larger.  
Alongside the jars were also other things boxed up, but the only thing Simon was interested in was a way of getting back up.  
He looked around, but the darkness was continuously seeping into his pupils, blinding him uncomfortably. No wonder humans feared the dark so much – being in complete blackness with only a torch as your guidance wasn’t one of the best feelings for sure. But he’d give everything for such guidance himself right now.  
Thinking that some of the boxes would have what he was looking for, he crouched down and felt the floor around him. Almost immediately, he hit his jackpot.  
The edges of the box he found were worn and it was covered in dust. He tried to read the label, but it was smudged from the years of neglect. Opening it, he rummaged inside. It was full of all kinds of junk: used toothbrushes, dog food bows, plant pots, and even a microscope. It had basically everything, except a flashlight. Just when he was about to lose hope, his hands took hold of something cylinder shaped. Lifting it, he could feel the comforting weight of a flashlight in his hands, a quick scan telling him it was fully recharged. Playing around in the darkness a little, Simon finally found the power button and pressed it, feeling that reassuring clunk under his thumb as the beam powered into the dark. Even though a solid pure beam to cut right through the darkness would have been better, every source of light was making him a happier man.  
With a working flashlight in hand, he strode further into the room, looking for an exit.

 

Not long into his search, the blue-eyed blonde found a door of solid metal. The surface was dented and rusty with years of water damage. Flashing his light over it, Simon spotted some scratches and claw marks on it, too. Where there would have been some fancy matching handle, was only a square shaft of dark cold metal. Simon closed his fingers around it to twist, but it didn’t move an inch, leaving his fingers blackened instead. The top and bottom, even the sides, lay so utterly flush against the frame that there was no hope of jemmying it open even if he had a crowbar. Key it is, then.  
In hope of finding something, he went to the shelves he’d analysed earlier. Sifting through the old, unlabelled, puzzling jars that filled the shelf, the man suddenly heard a soft click. Turning his head to the sound’s direction he could see a faint glint slowly sink into one of the old ceramic crocks. There went his luck.  
Walking over to the source of the sound Simon could see the space was full of fermented, possibly animal, organs in household pickling crocks. Some of the vessels were currently empty, but the cryptic numbering and globby drips down their outsides hinted at their past scientific purpose.  
Simon plunged his hands into the crock in question, diving into the dark fluid, the alcohol-like stench hitting his nostrils. Feeling around the sliminess his hands were engulfed in, he finally took hold of the key, pulling it back to the surface. His hands were slick with the smelly liquid, the solution loosening his grip on the key. In the darkness he could feel it was a caramel-like fluid, just like the one they put over apples over at the carnival, only this one was sickly blackish instead of soft, golden brown.  
With the key now in his possession, he could get out, but wanted to clean his hands off first. He searched around the different tables for some kind of cloth, when he stumbled upon an old stack of scientific papers. Curious to what they said he took hold of them. The records showed that this place was built at the turn of the 20th century, specialising in collecting different organic based matters.  
“ _The foundations of our collections are comparative specimens, examples of known plants, animals and other natural or cultural items that researchers require for identification and study. These include complete animals such as fishes and reptiles, best preserved in fluids to maintain their soft tissue._  
What do our scientists do however, when trying to preserve a whole human body? Surprisingly, household pickling crocks have the perfect compatibility with the size and preservation needs of the subjects in question. What happens to the bodies in there is known as ‘bacterial ceration’, the process of leaving an animal carcass submerged in water and letting the soft tissue rot away. Seemingly, without proper routine refills of preservation fluid, the animals inside begin to decay…”  
His hands were shaking so badly, the records slipped right out of them. He looked at his hands, the world around him becoming just a buzz. Most of the globby, red-brown fluid has become caught in the webbing of his fingers, whereas the rest was just a thin sheet over his whole arms right to where the sleeve of his t-shirt began.  
Every muscle in his body knotted up as the realisation fully penetrated to him. It all made sense now: the rotting stench, the colour, the goo-like texture…Simon had just stuck his hands in the remains of a human body...  
Suddenly, everything became too much and he crumbled to the floor like a puppet released of its strings. His mind was swirling and his breaths came out as shallow gasps. These people were using humans and turning them into… _gunk_. And if they got them, he and Markus would meet the same fate, if not worse.  
With his legs still a little wobbly Simon got up and stumbled to the door, each step making his stomach tighten uncomfortably. He kept swallowing, though his throat kept clenching, the feeling of that human stew still crawling over his hands. If he focused enough he could feel it all over again.  
Unlocking the door, he proceeded to the next room, with the only objective of finding Markus. He had to find him. At all costs.  
  
  



	4. The Past Repeats Itself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, hi, sup, u thought I was dead huh?? Well not, for now, so here’s a short chapter. Today is about Mark Mark and self preservation. Enjoy!

Markus woke up suddenly, every thought in his head in high definition. Though his eyes were open he didn’t know why, his heart pounding loud and deafening in his ears. He strained to look in utter darkness, his eyes making out the form of a figure. Pale skin resonated against the light of a faraway window, the light sliding down the baggily clothed body, illuminating every rise and fall of the fabrics. Blue eyes bored into him as blonde hair blinded his vision, making everything else just a smudged spot, placed by an unknown painter.  
_Simon_. But also, not…just a shadow of what he usually resonated. Just an ugly stain against the old wall, slowly peeling away, but still hanging on, distracting him from the rest of the freshly painted background.  
The figure sat in a wooden chair just a few feet in front of him, smiling coolly.  
Markus tried to get up but found himself trapped – arms behind his back and legs tied to the chair. A voice distracted him from his thoughts of escaping:  
“It’s a nice evening out, isn’t it?”  
The figure turned its head to stare out the window and into the tranquil night. The sweet smell from earlier this evening, when he and Simon entered the house, floated around Markus, tainting the air. Using the time he was given while neither of them spoke, Markus looked around himself.  
He was in some sort of a dining room; probably quite impressive before, but the years of neglect had taken its toll, leaving it dusty and unwelcome. A table of long solid wood took most of the vast space the dark room offered; it had no covering, and Markus could see it was made of shiny mahogany wood, scratches non-existent. In its middle, three tall candelabras shimmered brightly, illuminating the space around them like some kind of aureole. They held smooth, white candles whose wax stopped mid drip, making the whole scene seem like it has halted in time. At the end of the table were giant decorative carved wood doors, left slightly ajar so the sweet scent could flow in unattended. On the door’s sides were each gilded mirrors, the gold paint of their frames chipped over time.  
Markus looked at the mirror and what he saw surprised him deeply: it was him resting in the chair with a face of utter nonchalance; as if waiting for his turn at the cash register. He wasn’t slumped at all, yet his body was just as relaxed as his face.  
After the minute-long silence, the figure looked back at him, its smile never leaving its face.  
“He’s really nice, you know? The person you came with. Intuitive, intelligent, strong… and that makes him such a pain in the ass.”  
Something flashed beneath the surface of its unprejudiced expression and he hurried to identify the sudden shift but, by the time he could look closer, it was already gone; only leaving its eyes dark throughout the rest of their ‘conversation’.  
“But you, you are an idiot. A heavy idiot, might I add. You made him come to this house and started looking at my stuff, disturbing my peace. And now, I’m going to eliminate you both, starting with you.”  
The minute the words left its mouth, Markus was suffocating. It was as if the intense smell suddenly accumulated around him, putting him in a deadly vacuum. One moment he was in the silent room and the next he was drenched in rain.  
Suddenly he was dying all over again; his legs wobbly, his ears deaf, his eyes full of static, his heart shutting down. Bodies lay all around him, some functioning, others completely torn apart. The whole scene made his heart beat rapidly, the fear of keeping himself alive taking over him. It was then when a body came into his line of sight and the only thing he could think of was self-preservation. Stumbling down he tore the wretched one’s shirt off, his fingers fiddling with their thirium pump, tearing it without a single ounce of hesitation. But as he tore it out his eyes locked with the other’s ocean blue. Ocean blue, just like...  
Markus felt the world stop. His heart was pounding, mind empty. Suddenly all the eyes around him, dead and alive, turned towards him, delving holes into his being. The floor was sinking around him even though he wasn’t moving. It was as if the whole ocean had circled around him, the pale blue darker in the rain.  
His palms were sticky; the adrenaline coursing through his system was shutting down his ability to think logically. He wanted to run or beat the living daylights out of them. But he stood there frozen.  
He killed the only person keeping him sane; keeping him away from the curse of dread as it waited for the moment to stab him in the back. Fixing the false belief that he was safe; put inside a save bunker away from bad eyes. But he wasn’t and he knew it.  
They will catch and bury him. They will tear his legs out so he won’t get away. They wanted nothing but to hurt him, _everyone_ wanted to hurt him. He was nothing to them, just a piece of plastic. They didn’t want him to succeed, they wanted him to stay here and die with them.  
As the bodies closed around him, the only thing Markus could do was curl himself into a ball and weep.


End file.
